Close My Eyes
by LittleDuchess
Summary: Ayumi, Eri and Yuka decide to investigate Kagome's double life. It appears she's not the only one who's been reincarnated... Add in a perceptive History Teacher, some grizzly modern day murders and shake well!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha- if I did I wouldn't be broke. So don't sue me because you won't get any money. It's all in homage to Rumiko Takahashi

**Close My Eyes**

**Part One**

Chapter One

_"Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You, too? I thought I was the only one." --C.S. Lewis_

* * *

_Scene One_

The key to doing something unpleasant, Ayumi decided, was to look pleasant whilst doing it.

Ayumi stared at the reflection in the mirror hanging neatly in front of her. Her brown hair was brushed neatly and the state of her face looked satisfactory. Not gorgeous but pretty. It was too much too hope for more.

The mirror itself- a boring but rather large and square affair- was surrounded by little gold fairy lights. They weren't very bright but lit up from all angles, which made everything so much clearer than the natural light from the central, pink curtained window ever could illuminate. Their main advantage was showing every flaw. Their main disadvantage was showing every flaw.

Her older sister, Shirabe, had found them goodness knows where, though Ayumi suspected it had been a second hand sale, and set them around her mirror to make it look like the dressing tables of actresses or dancers dressing rooms. A testament to her sister's ability to subtly reveal how much she knew her little sister.

They had shared a room ever since they were little, strictly separated down the middle with an invisible line drawn in invisible chalk. On Ayumi's side there would reside a collection of plush animals, dolls and cute pink outfits on white hangers and in a row. The dolls would always be lined up and dressed, combed so that they looked like a frozen class photograph of toys. That was until Ayumi would come in and hug them so hard the stuffing would threaten to leak out. Immediately afterwards she would always feel a pang of guilt and groom the little animal even more to make up for it. Ayumi had been told she was too childish for her own good.

Shirabe, on the other hand, Shirabe had always been grownup; literature, classical art and, if feeling indulgent, sexy black dresses. Ayumi would never mention how she envied the later but her sister guessed. After every date there would follow long nightly discussions, so that Ayumi felt like it had been her wearing the delicate heeled shoes and sipping a drink through an applied and practiced smile. Shirabe was nice like that.

Of course there had been many arguments about the state of the room- for all Shirabe's casual sophistication she could never pick things up and elegant skirts often spent the night draped over chairs and teetering piles of books. The floor was hiding frightened under papers and books and pamphlets for the latest poetry reading.

Though it was incredibly cliché, for every fight there were acts and moments that demanded and meant through their very nature that everything was forgiven. Shirabe was like a personal guardian angel- she went out of her way to ensure Ayumi's happiness.

For example, Ayumi still remembered Shirabe staying with her all through the first day of school and marching up to Kagome and Eri, demanding they play with her. It had been embarrassing at the time but no one noticed little Ayumi going bright red and tracing circles with her foot on the bottom of the sandbox. After all, they were still pretty young. Kagome had smiled a big toothy grin; all sweetness, and Eri had decided to personally take her under her wing. Ayumi was always the baby of every group. She didn't mind- she fitted that way. She loved being babied. She remembered how Shirabe hadn't left until she was certain no one was going to upset her. Latter that day when they were finger painting and covering their aprons in mess, Ayumi was certain she'd seen a figure that looked like her big sister look into the classroom.

Lately in the last two years it was almost as if, they had become for the first time, no longer sisters but, friends. This mostly had to do with the sense of impending doom that seemed to hang over at least Ayumi. Shirabe couldn't have been more excited but had always been able to read her baby sister's moods and the sense of doom grew somewhat infectious.

Ayumi was scared of being left alone. A precocious child, she always needed someone to take care of her. The time for late night chats about the latest actors and the latest date were coming to an end. Who would tell her about make-up and boys? Who would lend her clothes? Ayumi had admitted things to her sister that she had kept from everyone, like her guilty fondness for singer and dancers in musicals and plays.

It was all Shirabe's fault for introducing her to it all. All the pretty outfits, pretty colours and romance had taken her and had never really let go. It had all spiralled from there though she would never tell. Only Shirabe suspected.

But Shirabe was going to go far away and even though they would still meet up it would never be the same.

Sure, it was only University and natural and a thousand other positive things. Of course it would be great not to stumble over Alfred Tennyson every time she went to rummage through her sister's drawers for a pair of tight that were not laddered.

This was a particular point of contention between them. Ayumi held a pair of tights in her hands and they laddered. Shirabe could kick box, mountain climb and wrestle an overweight man to the floor for the latest copy of the fully translated and annotated Sense and Sensibility without getting _a single ladder. _It was simply astounding. It also meant that Ayumi could never say that they had always been that way when Shirabe found her drawer full of ruined tights.

Ayumi had decided that in view of her leaving, she would need to give her something to remember her by and had spent the last two years wearing every single pair of Shirabe's tights until they were nothing more than a bit of thread held together with ladders. Sometimes she felt like that was a good metaphor for their relationship with Kagome. She bit her lip. That would come later.

When Shirabe moved out to a little flat near the University where she studied Advanced Literature, Ayumi had been sent of to an adventure camp for a week. Everything had been moved out when she was away. Every last novel, every Andy Warhol poster and every last pair of ridiculously heeled shoes was put into a box and moved out. Ayumi had wanted to be there to say goodbye to the stuff but her parent's decided she would end up getting in the way so it was off to Happy Sunshine Camp.

She had found it terribly unfair, even sadistic and had cried to herself to sleep every night.

The head councillor had somehow heard of this and decided to bring her to her wooden and terribly tasteless cabin for a talk. She believed her to be home sick (Imagine! At 16!) and spoken to her in her nasal patronizing voice for a full half hour about how they would look after her and be like her new parents for the week.

Ayumi had been horrified. She had tried to hide her indignation by wringing her hands behind her back and looking at the wall covered in certificates and shelves of sporting trophies. Let them think she was home sick. What did it matter?

Nevertheless she had despised the experience. Neither Eri, nor Yuka, nor Kagome had been there to look after her and without Shirabe she had felt completely lost. Refusing to take part in the games at first, Ayumi had started reluctantly to join in the activities more. Of course this was solely in the hope to stop the councillors worrying; she suspected the head councillor had warned them all to make sure she was included and happy. So after a miserable week of fake smiles, Ayumi returned home to find Shirabe's side of the room completely devoid of all her personal belongings.

It had been so quiet. To be honest even when the room was empty there had always been the steady undercurrent of possessions and activities lying beneath the surface waiting to roar to life. Now that Shirabe was gone so was all life. For the first time Ayumi truly felt the stillness. It looked like she had walked into a stranger's room.

She would have burst into tears then and there if it hadn't been for the fairy lights. Blinking softly they lined up along the white ledge of the mirror but a gold curvy pattern had been painted along the border. Perfumes were lined along the bottom of the dresser and there was a necklace hanger along with a pot full of makeup brushes. Besides the brushes was a tiered box containing lip-glosses, eye shadows and blushers. Nail varnish was standing proudly and neatly to attention to complete the effect of a Prima Dona's dressing room.

Shirabe had left a mark and it was a beautiful one. It had been personalised and subtle and everything that Ayumi wanted but didn't know she wanted. And Shirabe had even gone to the lengths of making it tidy.

Three years latter and it was all still in the same layout. The logic was that as long as this visible touch of sisterly affection and effort remained visible, Ayumi wouldn't really be alone. Of course she'd grown quite happy with her own room and independence. There was more space to study and sing into her hairbrush without fear of repercussions.

Speaking of hairbrushes, she picked one up and gave her hair a few more tugs. There. Perfect. A touch of lip gloss and she would be ready to go meet Eri at WacDonalds. Yuka was away at her Father's and Kagome was ill… And yet, her nerves didn't calm and her conscience was still tugging at her to stay home and not say what she was going to say.

* * *

Scene Two

WacDonalds loomed over Ayumi's head in a garish display of red and yellow. Posters showing unnaturally large burgers and healthy, happy people running marathons and presumably having finished eating the monster burger, screamed out about the new saver deals. At least it was better than the one of the "horrid little alien brat and his CrappyMealTM" as Eri had so politely put it. A movie promotional poster featuring an action hero proudly clogging his arteries with fries and burgers- "Thanks to WacMeals I can save the world"- had replaced that one.

Revolving glass doors pushed aside and Ayumi immediately steeped to the side to let a group of hoodie clad guys. She let her gaze wander over the plastic tables, the plastic plants and plastic bins inside the establishment in search of Eri. She had asked her to meet her in the joint at two-thirty. They would miss the lunchtime crush that way. It was a beautiful, sunny Saturday and they could go shopping afterwards. Ayumi had her eyes on a gorgeous blue blousy top with a ruffled collar. She'd seen one just like in a woman's magazine except in orange. Ayumi was keen to look fashionable today.

Ayumi dodged the flying fries profaning from a large group of teenagers and nearly fell on top of a couple making out in a booth. A manager was bursting a vein trying to decide which crime to tackle first. A toddler was also throwing fries at his harassed mother who was trying to stop her other baby crying. Ayumi winced and felt compelled to help but saw Eri wave to her out of the corner of her eye. She was sitting in a small booth- their usual one by the window. Waving back, Ayumi quickly got into the queue and bought some fries and a medium Fanta.

Ten minutes latter, she dumped her tray beside Eri's BigWac and Coke. Reached over to hug Eri, then all of a sudden exhausted Ayumi slumped into her chair overtaken by worrying. She really didn't want to do this. The feeling passed quickly however as they talked of everything and anything.

There was a new fashion of wearing your hair up in a high French chignon. Eri threw out scathing comments on the girls who couldn't do it right yet persisted in believing themselves the height of all things fashion, whilst Ayumi bemoaned her lack of co-ordination when it came to styling the back of her hair.

"Some hairstyles are just doomed to look repulsive unless one has someone to do it for them," Ayumi sighed. " I've just been letting mine loose now."

"Short is easier. Much easier" Eri said with the look of someone who had learnt from bitter experience and was a better person for it. Ayumi sipped her Fanta and Eri reached over to take a fry. "Tell me about your sister's boyfriend. You said on the phone that she had called you up about something and I'm bored of talking about Fukashi and Ramika. They'll split up again next week and we'll have the same conversations again and again and I'm so bored of it. Tell me about your sister…"

"Well, you know she's been going out with Yuito for a while now? I think it's been about a year and a half or something. Well, he took her to a book fair the other day and…"

"How boring!" Eri interrupted.

"Shirabe loved it though. It's her type of thing," Ayumi said.

Erirolled her eyesand waved her hand as if purging a sin.

"Each to their own. Go on."

"Well, they were at the book fair and Shirabe was looking through all the different stalls. You know, they've got stalls from all the different sections. They have the romance one, the science fiction one and then there was this one about history and stuff. Shirabe said that it was hidden in a corner and the only reason they found it was because it was behind the biography stand and she'd been looking for a copy of The Bell Jar. The keeper was really old she said, just like they'd lived through all the history themselves. All little and wrinkled with huge bug eyes, she said. He was representing a shop called Artefacts of the Warring States. Probably one of the old musty bookshops hidden in side streets with most of the shop devoted to one kind of textbook. She said he kept mumbling to himself and croaking at people who went by so she obviously wanted to annoy him a bit and decided to look through his stuff. Shirabe said that Yuito had been telling her about this historical book he wanted. He's got a history degree… didn't I tell you? Oh, never mind. They met when she was studying Advanced Literature and he was doing history. Anyway Shirabe said she riffled through the stall despite almost dying thanks to her dust allergy and found this copy of it and she gave it to him all proud like. Shirabe told me he got really strange and quiet like."

"And?"

"And that's it."

"That's it?"

Ayumi nodded miserably.

"What do you mean that's it?"

"I mean that's all she told me!"

"Did she say what kind of quiet it was? Was it the I'm-going-to-dump-you quiet or what? Tell me!"

"I was asking her when there was a bang in the background and she hung up. That's all I know. Honest." Ayumi said completely exasperated.

"That sucks," Eri said. "What was the point then?"

"I'm calling her again tonight. I'll tell you as soon as I know."

"Right. But that's not why you called me here." Eri said, calmly taking a bite of her BigWac. How on earth could she eat that? How could she go from outraged to so calm?

Ayumi sighed. She didn't want to talk about this but Eri was right. Gossip wasn't why she had asked to meet her friend today. Across the aisle another tired Mother moved in like a retreating Vietnam soldier. This one was with three toddlers, her partner presumable making the money to keep their little mouths full of fatty foods. The women's eyes were bloodshot with black bags hanging underneath them as she tried to herd her flock of children. A pacifier went flying through the air and struck a bald man on the collar.

Ayumi turned back to Eri. She had to say what she was thinking about. She'd feel better once she said it. But she didn't have to say it in one go.

"Well, you know it's about Kagome…"

"Huh-huh." Eri said, sipping her drink to wash down her burger.

"When she started getting all ill and everything. I mean it wasn't like her. She'd always be at school with us and we used to hang out all the time. And then she was ill. Do you remember when it started?"

"It was her birthday," Eri asked, "Wasn't it?"

"Yeah, and we'd all been planning it for ages and we had the presents and everything. I remember spending ages picking out that photo album. I think you got her chocolate fudge and Yuka had bought all those sparklers. And then she was ill for the next week or so."

"It was really good tasting chocolate though. Her loss."

"Anyway," Ayumi said, " I forget what disease she had but I remember it being really unusual and quite bad. And the week afterwards she had another disease and I thought that you know, a short stay in hospital and she'd be all right. And then she kept getting all these horrible illnesses and every time we went to see her, we couldn't go in because she needed to be left alone and it was dangerous."

"Yeah, and?"

The bald man was now yelling at the Mother. She, in turn, was getting quite impatient and yelling at her children. One of them jumped off the chair and ran down the aisle, bumping into a teenage boy with a tray. Ayumi decided to take the plunge. She slurped the last of her Fanta.

"Well, the thing is that she should be dead by now."

Eri choked on her coke.

"Ayumi! Don't say that- you sound like you want her to be dead!" she laughed.

Ayumi decided to go for it despite feeling like she was proposing that Kagome was a serial killer or something equally preposterous.

"That's not the point. How many illnesses can you get before you have to be in hospital at all times? I mean she does spend a lot of time there but her mother never seems that worried."

"Some parent's don't get stressed about everything, like that."

Both girls stopped talking and spent a minute in silence thinking about Yuka. Her parent's had divorced a short while back and she was staying with her father during the weekend. Yuka didn't talk about it much and everyone in that family was always smiling but they could tell it had been quite messy. The worst was that her parent's hadn't noticed that Yuka was upset and taking it quite badly. One time Yuka had gone over to Eri's and slept over and gotten home the next morning before her mother noticed she had been gone. No questions had been asked.

"I'm sorry." Ayumi wished she'd never said anything. She felt so guilty. She didn't know what she was implying, just that she was worried but she felt so bad for opening her mouth. And meeting Eri like that! It was going behind everyone's backs and it was completely unlike Ayumi.

"Don't. I think your right. I agree with you."

Ayumi lifted her head quickly. A wave of relief rushed over her, drenching her from the head to the toes. Could it be? Could it be all right now? Eri believed her it had to be all right. It was all right to talk about it. It was all right.

Calmly finishing stealing Ayumi's last fry, she stood up and said,

"I can see Tomoyo coming down the street. Don't look. Let's go and we'll talk about it somewhere else."

The teenage boy, the mother and the bald man were all wrestling on the floor now. The toddlers cheered them on as the two girls picked their way around and out of the fast food restaurant.

* * *

_Scene Three_

The park was beautiful if not quite busy. Located in the heart of the city of Tokyo, many people were surprised that such an island of green existed in the sea of traffic lights. It was hidden, surrounded by tall building and busy roads but large enough so that once in the park, you could almost believe yourself out of the Tokyo. There were a few meandering dirt paths, a pond with koi fish, an old-fashioned bridge and mini pagoda, painted reds and gold. Several trees were planted surrounded by flowers in turn surrounded and fiercely guarded by little green fences and signs asking people not to step on them, please.

Dog walkers were running after their animals that, in turn, were running after cats. Ayumi was pretty certain she'd had a nursery book with a picture of that sort of thing happening. A father was teaching his child how to ride a bike without stabilisers. It was strangely heart-warming.

They sat down on a graffiti-ed bench that had once been bright green. According to the inscriptions Beniha was ready for a fun time and Fuuto had a very small penis. Ayumi blushed. For some strange reason she found this much less heart-warming.

They both squirmed, studiously avoiding the pigeon dropping, into comfortable positions on the hard wood. Eri had one leg under her bum and the other dangling whilst Ayumi put her hands in her pockets, feeling to make sure her phone and keys were still there. There were along with a sticky sweet wrapper. Eri started to talk. She was never one for hesitating once she had made up her mind.

"You are right." She was saying, "It doesn't make sense. Kagome has been gone so long that I'm surprised they haven't transferred her somewhere else or something. Anymore and she might have to redo all the exams- even the year maybe!"

"That would break her heart! You know how she cares about her studies. I don't think that she's staying out of school because she wants to."

"Right." Said Eri.

Suddenly the air felt a lot cooler and a lot more serious. Ayumi tugged her coat around her.

A couple of minutes passed in silence. Ayumi tried to think of something to say to fill the gap, opened her mouth and shut it again. She brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. The wind was starting to pick up a bit but only in little gusts; the sun was still shining. It was an idyllic August afternoon, dwindling late into the season, lazing slowly into September.

In the distance a group of five teenage boys passed a football between them. Ayumi thought she'd seen their profiles somewhere before. She recognised a brown coat from school and several of the other silhouettes but they were too far away to really tell any distinguishing features or facial expressions. One of them had beautiful brown hair flopping into his eyes. He was very good at the game and skilfully dribbled the ball, dodged, kicked and scored. In a mock fit of celebration he ran back to his mates and Ayumi knew he was going to lift his shirt over his head in an imitation the players on television, and there he went and, oh my!

Eri cleared her throat pointedly.

"Speaking of sports and all," a pointed look, "She's too healthy." She said. " I know how that sounds, but every time, every single time there's sports she can run faster than all of us. She's stronger and her legs look a lot more muscled."

"You noticed? Think it's not just a healthy diet?" Ayumi was feeling a bit wry due to her ever so important observations of the masculine and athletic kind being interrupted.

"No. Nobody in bed-rest can be that fit." Eri really wasn't taking the bait. Or maybe she was because she changed the agenda pretty quickly. "Just having a cold takes so much out of you. I don't know how she does it. And even then I don't know much about diseases and science and all… but really some of those diseases, they aren't all that common, are they? I mean what are the chances? It's like she's gone hiking all the way through a medical encyclopaedia and back." Eri stopped talking for a while and tugged at her skirt. " And don't you think," she started again "that some of those diseases, if combined- they'd be lethal! She could be knocked over by a single finger."

"Right. We both agree that something is wrong with Kagome. Do you think it's really just one sickness or condition or something but she's too embarrassed to tell us?" Ayumi asked but immediately decided that couldn't be right. Kagome, or at least her grandfather, had named many, many embarrassing diseases. What could possibly be worse than all of those?

"Might be something like that. It must be really something terrible though."

There was another silence enveloping them like a cold blanket.

"So what do we do?" Asked Ayumi.

"I don't know."

They both sighed. Something was wrong with Kagome. That in itself was completely inexcusable. Kagome was the happy one. Only a sadist could hurt her or even want to. And still, she would probably bring the sadist home and make him a cup of hot chocolate. Or perhaps even ramen. She did tend to pick up strays.

The group of boys were still playing except that the game of football had somewhat degenerated. They were now jumping on top of each to form a pile of limbs sticking in every which direction. It was all rather predictable and asininely masculine. The fit one, who had revealed his rather nice torso to the world was under the pile with his arse facing Ayumi. It was a rather nice arse. Immediately she banished such unbecoming thoughts from her mind.

Ayumi turned to Eri who was studying her nails with a frown on her face.

"Should we tell Yuka about Kagome?"

Eri didn't answer.

They got up to leave and Ayumi lingered a bit behind, rearranging her pink scarf around her neck and pushing her hair back behind her ears. She walked slowly beside Eri. The boys were dispersing and she strove to catch a glance at the mystery boy's face. They seemed to be leaving- picking up the bags that had served as goalposts and some of the guys- one with bleached hair especially, were yelling and running around each other. The mystery brown haired boy was walking very calmly and happily whilst a friend wearing a brown coat slapped his shoulder in a gesture of friendship. He turned to face Ayumi. It was Hojo.

_

* * *

_

Scene Four

"Mama! I'm back!"

"It's about time, too! The dinner will be cold!"

Ayumi dropped her bag by the front door- her Mother would tell her off about it later and kicked off her shoes, sinking her feet into the furry blue carpet. Grinning at herself in the hallway mirror she tried to flatten her windswept hair before trudging into the bathroom to wash her hands.

Far from cold, her Mothers dinner was actually quite delicious and Ayumi found herself fighting with her Father over the last of the meat dumplings. Ayumi's Mother looked on with a proud smile at her squabbling family. It was quite a compliment really. Basking in the familial glow, she tragically forgot about the pudding in the oven. However she did remember as soon as the fire alarm went off and the smoke started pouring out of the oven. The black crust of the pudding ended up having rather deep roots and the meal was soundly finished off by plain white yoghurt nearing its due date.

A quick kiss and a reassurance that the desert was just fine, really it was, nothing better, and Ayumi skipped to her room. Despite the rather depressing conversation she had shared with Eri earlier on, she couldn't help but feel that things were looking up. Of course they didn't know what they would do to help Kagome, but now that they had talked about it they were bound to come up with a good solution. It was obvious.

Lying on her bed and smiling at the ceiling rather stupidly, Ayumi allowed herself the privilege of drifting thoughts. Kagome was so lucky to have Hojo! He was kind, polite, caring and as she had discovered today, extremely blessed in the physical department. A small blush developed on her cheeks. Kagome really was much luckier than she knew to have him so devoted to her.

Rolling on to her stomach and sticking her feet up in the air like she had seen done in the magazines and all the teen soaps, she picked up the phone lying on the bed side table. It had been a Christmas present and unlike most of her presents she actually used this one rather regularly. Shirabe's number was on the speed dial- they still gossiped; sometimes the day would blend into evening then fade to night accompanied by a chorus of quiet voices and giggles locked into two apartment rooms but linked with a wire. And every date with the boyfriend, Yuito was put under a microscope.

Ayumi was a bit worried though. Shirabe had grown slightly distant and serious about the relationship. Of course she would tell the small things but she no longer kissed and told- one of her previous great faults according to her Mother and great advantages according to her little sister. And then other times she would just say "Ayumi it's not something like that. You'll understand one day".

Ayumi found this very problematic because either she did understand- after all she did loved Brad Pitt, didn't she?- or she didn't understand; in which case, how on earth was she supposed to understand if no one explained it?

Shirabe still needed a lot of work on her logic and communication skills.

Picking up the receiver, Ayumi punched Shirabe's number whilst positioning the receiver in a cradling position between her shoulder and neck. It rang four times before being picked up.

"Hello? This is Shirabe T―. How may I be of assistance?"

A burst of giggles before Ayumi replied, "Your work's over! Welcome back to normal life!"

"Oh, it's you. In that case this isn't Shirabe and I am no longer able to assist. I'm out at the moment."

"Shirabe!"

Both sides of the line were overcome by a sudden fit of giggles. This lasted approximately five minutes before they subsided, mostly because one would stop and the other would start up again renewing the others hilarity and annulling their efforts at sobriety.

Finally the older sister swallowed her laughter and asked how Ayumi's day had gone. Twiddling the cord, and rolling onto her back Ayumi decided it was best not to include every detail. She really did not see what good it would do. Of course, her sister knew and cared for her friends but it could never be in the same way that Ayumi herself did. Telling her something was wrong would only mean unwanted investigations and warnings she already knew.

So she didn't. She talked about Eri and she talked about the Mother and when she felt like the phone line between them was growing longer because of what she didn't talk about, she punched the distance to the back of her mind and smiled and asked Shirabe to finish her story.

It had started at the bookstall. The whole bookstall; seemed to be about the Warring States Era and the bookstall keeper looked old and wrinkled enough to be from that Era himself. He had a faint green-ish tinge but that was probably the healthy glow of mould from the books and his old fashioned cloths. There was a specific book Yuito had been looking for about the Legends of the Warring States Era- it was his specialist subject you know- and picking it up and reading the blurb (slightly teasing his dry taste of textbooks) it had taken a couple of minutes to notice how quiet he'd gone. He was biting the inside of his cheek and twiddling his thumbs. He'd been doing that a lot lately. They'd be out in the market and she would ask him something and he would open his mouth and close it, like a goldfish, and twiddle his thumb. One time they'd been strolling through a travelling carnival, watching children scream on the Ferris Wheel and the sun had been starting to set. Pots of gold, orange and red paint had been spilled into the sky, the colours running into each other. And he'd stopped and looked at her, and it was such a look and she was sure he was going to say something deeply important, but he'd shaken his head and walked on by.

And now he was doing it again. Shirabe asked what was wrong. Thumbs Twiddled. Twiddle Twiddle. The stall keeper had a fit of coughs and wheezes. He eyed them suspiciously. And Yuito had looked at Shirabe and all of a sudden she didn't want him to say anything. She was scared. Scared of that serious face, scared of the twiddling thumbs, scared because she didn't want to loose him. Scared because she knew she loved him. But of course she didn't say all that. Twiddle.

And then he told her. And it wasn't bad and it wasn't life changing. But it also wasn't all.

He had a new job. They'd interviewed him a couple of weeks ago and he'd got it. He wasn't sure how to tell her because it would mean he'd have to travel a lot more and he'd have less time to see her. He would be teaching History at a High School. You get pretty busy doing that and there are all the extra hours as well. Imagine Yuito as a Sensei! Besides, it was good pay. When they did see each other he could treat her that much more. They'd make it work. He really wanted to start working- it'd begin in September along with all the pupils. It was perfect.

It was at Ayumi's high school.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own anything not least Inuyasha. But if Rumiko Takashi wouldn't mind handing him over I wouldn't object.

Author's Note: Each chapter is set up from a different characters point of view so we get the full picture. I know that we have gone two chapters without a single main character appearing but that is because I want to explore the aspects rarely explored by the manga, anime or even fan fiction.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

_"Summer afternoon— summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language." Henry James_

* * *

_Scene One_

The last days of the summer holidays seemed to drag and flow by all at once, like a rubber band that had been stretched out and suddenly released. It was with that realisation of the time passed that Eri woke up to on the last Saturday before school started again. Only two days were left before she would be back in uniform! After so many days of delicious laziness this knowledge brought with it a feverish panic. There were so many things she hadn't done yet- the cinema had been left unattended, the shopping centre had only had a few visits and the fair had been wickedly neglected.

How, oh how did you do the activities of an entire summer in two days? It was pointless to even try it all so Eri decided to see where the day would take her. She determined that she would profit from the weekend even if half the day was gone through her habit of sleeping late.

Throwing on a green top and a pair of frayed faded jeans, Eri skipped out the house, swinging her brown handbag from side to side. The train station wasn't too far from the apartment complex so she found the walk refreshing and not overlong. Shop windows were advertising "Back to School" Sales in a dire warning of the doom ahead. Honestly! Did Care Homes have "Soon to Die!" signs?

The greengrocer was boasting of the quality of his Satsuma's and Eri's mouth watered. She popped in to buy a couple. It didn't cost much but it still took a couple minutes of fiddling at the bottom of her bag to find her money and count it out, grinning apologetically at the bored man behind the counter. The bakery was wafting delicious smells from the van parked outside it. Men in white shirts were carting in big cardboard boxes of goodness knows what.

Eri skipped past the heavy-laden men, peeling and chomping into her Satsuma. Juice dribbled all the way down her chin. She licked it off giggling. The world was beautiful; the weather was fair so why shouldn't she be happy despite counting down to school?

In fact she almost felt like committing a good deed. Where there any elderly citizens needing help to cross the road? No? Shame.

Ignoring the red light, she marched across the road and climbed up the steps going to the train station. The train had just left, so Eri sat down on a white bleached bench to wait for the next one. It should only be another ten or fifteen minutes at most.

Humming to a tune she had heard on the radio, Eri felt compelled to smile at everyone who walked past. Some smiled back such an adorable toddler who waddled past, clinging at his Mother's legs but most walked faster including a couple of businessmen intent on answering their mobile phones. It was strange how smiling made people feel nervous. Eri swung her feet and stretched out her legs feeling completely at one with the world.

A group of twenty something men walked by and settled by the wall beside her. They were jabbering incoherently and by their skin tone she could tell they were tourists. They didn't look like they were on a business trip at all; vests and cargo trousers weren't seen in most offices. Neither were six-packs of beer a common office stapple.

Glancing sideways at them she made a mental note of their appearance. One had multiple piercing through his nose, eyebrow and climbing all the way around his ears. His head was shaved and his eyes were hiding behind oversized sunglasses. Another of the men was a tall and black wearing a loose bright orange baseball shirt. His hair was dread locked and he was laughing raucously at something that his friend had said. The latter had shockingly blue eyes and blond hair that had been lightly spiked. They were all talking, laughing and taking swigs from their beer bottles.

Blue eyes must have noticed her glancing at them because he gestured towards Eri. They all turned to stare her over. Eri could practically feel them one over her legs and blushed. She desperately wished her jeans weren't so tight though she had never noticed before. They all laughed at her reddening face. The dread locked one said something to her. She didn't know what it meant but she did know what that kind of leering expression meant.

Trying her best to ignore them without making it look like she was, Eri focused on the advert for travel insurance pasted to the wall across from her. A tropical island was coifed in a thousand palm trees and waves caressed the sandy shore. A happy couple was waving at her, their teeth bleached industrially.

Perhaps she was studying it too intently because with a start Eri realised that the blue-eyed, blonde man had sat down beside her.

Eri shuffled a bit to the side, away from him. They all laughed. Blondie leaned over, his arms holding both sides of the bench to steady himself and his breath smelt the way her uncle's did at parties. That was except for the leering attitude. Looking around for help, Eri was terrified to find only an old man narrowing his eyes grimly at the display, mumbling about young people's lack of decency. To her left a tramp was sleeping under a newspaper.

This left her in a terrible dilemma. To get up would only provoke them more, but to ignore them would only be giving them permission to continue. How on earth did you deal with drunken lecherous men? There was nothing, no one to rescue her or give her the pretence to leave.

Blondie was saying something to her, something coarse from the look on his friend's faces. He started rambling, stringing words together in broken, nonsensical Japanese; words that made her blush even more. Words that made the other two snort and wolf whistle.

Eri's salvation came in the shape of a train speeding into sight. She didn't know where it was going. She didn't care.

As she stood up, trying to ignore the sounds of protest from the drunken tourists, Eri jolted suddenly. An arm had wound its way around her shoulders. She tried to look up at her interlocker but a voice whispered above her ear.

"Don't worry. You're alright now."

The men had gotten up and were following, unsteadily. They were raising their voices at the man who had whisked Eri away; at her. Her knight in casual armour's grip strengthened against her shoulder as she felt her knees go shaky. She felt suddenly overwhelmed and yet felt no threat from the intervening stranger but an odd relief. He half lead, half lifted her into the train's compartment. He marched her along the train without letting go until they had found a spare two seats, the train left the station and the drunks where left behind. All the breath seemed to go out of her body at once and she collapsed on her seat. Eri stared at him. He seemed to notice her confounded expression and simply grinned.

"Daisuke at your service. An you are-?"

"Eri."

The silence stretched between them. Eri desperately tried to think of something to say. It had to be witty. It had to be intelligent. It had to be-

"So do you often kidnap young girls like me?"

-certainly not that.

"No," he laughed "Just you. Do you wish I'd left you there?"

Eri blushed again but this time she was smiling. She finally studied Daisuke's features properly. He was about her age, taller and wore his clothes casually with the first three buttons undone. Brown eyes twinkled at her and he had draped his arm across the back of the chair. His brown hair flopped into his eyes and he had an easy, crooked smile. He looked wholesome but with a slight edge.

She liked that.

Noticing that he was appraising her in the same way she was appraising him, Eri turned her head to look out the window.

"Where are you going?" Daisuke asked.

Opening her mouth to answer, Eri stopped short. Where was she going? That didn't seem to matter now. The important thing had been that she was going. She might as well take the plunge.

"That depends."

"Depends? On what?"

"Where you're going."

* * *

_Scene Two_

School has always been the central tenant of all young teenagers lives all around the world. It does not matter how long they are removed from the building itself, but the school mentality, complete with its hierarchies, gossips and routines, is set at a basic fundamental level. Basically this means that within minutes of re-entering the environment everything slows to halt and starts to gravitate once more as it always has. It takes little time (about five minutes) to get used to school again despite the fatigue of the early mornings.

Because of that Eri found herself chatting happily to Ayumi and Yuka and only being mildly peeved by the lack of sleeping in. Instead it was oddly invigorating to have a set routine of activities. Comparing their (lack of) tans lost its glamour soon and all was talk of the present routine. This however was better said than done as noticed by the way they were five minutes late for the first class; Geography.

The first lesson back was never expected to be very difficult and therefore no one really bothered, not even the teacher. Eri kept glancing around the rows of chairs and desks, biting the inside of her mouth. She couldn't wait to hear the latest news from her friends or tell them all about Daisuke. She looked at Yuka imagining her envious reaction. Yuka hadn't been out with anyone for a while now- not for want of trying though. How many nights they had spent gossiping about all the boys!

Ayumi on the other hand would go all starry-eyed and immediately start planning their wedding. And once that was done she would demand all the details. There wasn't much to say after the train station incident. They'd spent the day together going to a café and then he'd paid for her to go onto a ghost ride. She'd jumped at a spider that had fallen from the ceiling. She'd held herself against him for longer than necessary and he hadn't let go either. When the tunnel had ended and it was raining outside. They'd run through the drizzling water and hid out in a bookstore until it calmed. They'd talked a lot and joked even more.

By the time the evening ended it was only natural he had her phone number and a kiss on the cheek.

What? She wasn't a complete hussy!

Kagome's reaction- she would like to guess that one! Glancing around the classroom, Eri was surprised to find that Kagome wasn't there. She wasn't so much surprised by the absence but by the fact the absence had become so natural she hadn't noticed it before now. That created an uncomfortable queasy feeling in her stomach.

The teacher was asking her something- she didn't really care what. After all she knew how to read a map. Why would she need to know more?

Apparently the teacher wasn't too happy with that answer so Eri found herself harshly scolded for a full five minutes.

"You insolent, young missy! Do you really think that this education is that worthless? There are many people in the world that would give anything to have the opportunity to go to such a fine establishment! And you fritter your education away! The ingratitude!" the teacher was growing more and more livid.

Eri could feel Ayumi starring at her in a disapproving manner but kept her head down. She wasn't a goody-goody two shoes. She didn't care. She let the teacher carry on the scolding until her anger had abated and she'd moved onto the Amazonian Rainforest.

Anyway this hardly was the first time she'd annoyed a teacher; the old history teacher for instance. He'd been incredibly old and had probably taught her own parents. He'd been senile. Completely and utterly. He didn't have a clue about anything except for dates. Usually this was quite normal for the strange breed that taught history, but even more so for him. He would stand (always proudly as if facing a firing squad) in the front of the room yelling dates and mumbling everything else. You would be sleeping away peacefully when this voice would boom out "1945!" or occasionally "HIROSHIMA!"

It was all rather unsettling.

He'd left at the end of the year. The rumours were rife about why. Eri had her suspicions. She'd never liked him anyway. She had never liked history anyway.

All the homework he assigned was left white as snow lying on her desk. The ink of a semi poised pen had not once defiled the virgin paper. When he asked her questions in class she would simply say that she was sure someone else knew the answer. It was rude but he never noticed, buried beneath his big bushy eyebrows and stuttering the question again to someone else. Yuka would laugh about it afterwards, admiring her guts and Ayumi would look disapproving and Kagome wouldn't be there.

Eri was really a good girl though. And that was why she never truly laughed in his face. She would joke behind his back and had even flipped off his retreating figure once (she had been very daring that day and only felt a slightly bit guilty) but always stopped at the invisible line that she had set herself.

The problem was that everyone had their own invisible lines and the lines twisted and contorted themselves like snakes until they were all jumbled up and all of a sudden they were crossed without ever being touched.

The truth was that the sensei was very easy to tease. So the pupil body tormented and teased and twisted his words all the time. It had never been that bad really but something about it pulled at her mind…

She had once, when she had been very little, seen a magicians show. He had he most extravagantly waxed, gravity defying moustache and the most ridiculous top hat she had ever seen in her imagination or anywhere else. He'd been surrounded by women wearing black tops, black shorts, black tights, black black black.

One woman had climbed into a box. The box wasn't all that large at all, and it was raised on a shining pedestal. She smiled, red lips and white teeth, lifted her arms in triumph and disappeared into the box. And the lid had closed. The magician had stretched out his hand, waved it; pantomimed a spell.

Another black woman had given him a sword. It was curved and long and dreadfully sharp. He'd shown the blade to the captive audience, glinting in the light of the spotlight. Slowly; everyone saw it. Then he slid it in just like the box was melting butter.

Another sword from another woman. Another prolonged show. This one was slid in through the other side. And another. And another. And all Eri could do was hold her breath and pray. One could be avoided, almost ignored, but the more were added the more difficult it would become.

She imagined the assistant inside the box, twisting her body into obscene contortions to avoid the jab of the knife. She imagined the blades slicing through at all angles, surrounding and overwhelming.

And now she could imagine the old sensei avoiding all the taunts by twisting his senile mind around them. She imagined him squirming, under attack from invisible blades sinking into his thoughts like the swords into the box, like a knife in melted butter. And then something, his spine perhaps, had cracked.

He'd left the school.

Sometimes, when she thought about it, Eri felt a stab of guilt.

Her own personal magician's box.

* * *

_Scene Three_

The morning ended to the sound of a thousand rejoicing teenagers running towards the sirens call of the canteen. The queue was remarkably long for the quality of the food served and the diner lady wasn't helping. Mumbling through every transaction, she spent her time, squinting at pupils as if suspecting them of terrorism. The hungry pupils meanwhile eyed the food contemplating what acts of terrorism they would have to commit before the queue started moving again. Strange though it was, Eri had truly missed the unrecognisable pits of meat hiding in her noodles. Eri's stomach was the kind of bin that could eat everything.

Picking up her tray and scowling at the dinner lady, Eri turned around and walked out of the canteen. It was always so crowded in there and when the weather was nice the girls usually met on the bleachers above the sports field. Juggling her bag and food, Eri circumnavigated the student body to find Ayumi already there but Yuka yet to arrive.

"So? Ready to talk to her?" Eri raised an eyebrow at her friend.

Looking up from her half devoured sandwich, Ayumi's round eyes reminded Eri of a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

"You start" was all she said before returning to her sandwich.

Great. Just brilliant. Of course the dirty work would be left to her. Because everyone knew Eri didn't have a conscience and didn't mind starting really terribly gossipy conversations about her close friend behind her back. Admittedly she had taken part in her fair share of gossip, proudly transforming a broken nail into a life or death situation and spreading school wide panic but there was no need to assume she was always up for it!

Noticing her sulk, Ayumi interjected that she had started the last such conversation.

Ok. Fair enough but Eri was dammed if she was going to let a good pout go to waist. She tossed her head to the side and took out a pocket mirror to check her appearance. Ignoring Ayumi for a good half a minute seemed long enough, so she tuned back and they started to talk lazily as Eri polished off her meal.

The sun was shining quite brightly and it was determined to be a gorgeous afternoon. Large groups of pupils were congregating on the grass of the playing fields and even more were sitting on the stands. A group of foreign exchange students were sticking together- it was a shame that they never tried to talk to anyone else, but always stuck together. A few of the guys were quite handsome and Eri had always wanted to talk to them but there was nothing for it and anyway, she had her own boyfriend now.

Yuka was waving in the distance, wrestling with her bags like Steve Irwin in an alligator enclosure and barrelling towards them.

Oh well. Someone had to tell her the conclusion about Kagome. Curling her legs underneath her and leaning back, Eri smiled up at her friend, gesturing to a spot beside her.

Apologising profusely for being late, Yuka moaned about the return of work; it appeared a teacher had kept her late to inquire about her familial situation, to see if they could help. And no, they couldn't.

Ayumi tooted at the annoying professor and looked significantly at Eri, raising her eyebrow. Feeling slightly vindictive, Eri felt rather tempted to pretend not to have seen the action but decided against it with a practiced roll of the eyes. Turning to her other friend she opened her mouth to speak. Then she closed it. How did you start this conversation?

"Yuka… this might sound a bit weird but…"

A few minutes latter Eri was astounded at the fact Yuka hadn't thrown a wobbly yet. In fact Yuka seemed to be taking it rather well.

"Okay, so she's skiving off to shag her boyfriend. This is unusual how?"

Two faces snapped up, two minutes of shocked silence before two voices cried out at once in indignation.

"Yuka!" "She's not like that!" "How could you?" "She'd never…" "That's so shocking!" "She probably doesn't even know how to…"

Yuka did nothing but stare impassively ahead of her. Eri thought she might start yawning soon. To be perfectly honest Yuka was becoming a different person and Eri had no idea about how to deal with it. She was incredibly bitter lately and had become more and more of a cynic. Of course Eri had nothing against cynicism tempered by a strong sense of humour, but Yuka was also very bossy. A bit of a control freak to be honest; understandable perhaps but still rather annoying.

Yuka leaned back onto her seat and lifted her feet onto the table. Looking completely collected she observed shrewdly that it was most likely they had all been thinking it and she was just saying it. This was followed by more protests but Eri noticed that they were slightly less forceful than they probably should have been.

It was true that they had all had their doubts about the mysterious boyfriend. From what Kagome had said he sounded like a gang member but when they had met him- how different he had been! Eri thought he was actually rather cool and she knew Ayumi believed him all right, as did Yuka but they hadn't seen him that often…

But what on earth did that have to do with Kagome's illness anyway?

"So, we go round and ask a few questions," Yuka was saying. "Kagome's not a great liar. She couldn't be hiding anything big. It's probably something really boring anyway."

"Maybe it isn't," gushed Ayumi, "Maybe Inuyasha is like, a plain clothes officer. And maybe he's infiltrating a gang and has got to act all tough to be like, one of them. And then he's got to protect Kagome because the gang bought a dodgy amulet from the shrine and she's got to stay with him so she can't go to school much. And then they fall in love and…"

"Ayumi?"

"Yes?"

"Your brain might overheat. And shut up."

"Yes Yuka."

* * *

_Scene Four_

The problem with being involved in school life, Eri thought, was that you had to actually do stuff. It was all very inconvenient.

Of course she loved being in the drama club. In fact she practically ran the club herself. And because of that everyone that was usually involved had come to ask her when it would start up again. Eri had been forced to tell all of twenty people that she had no idea and would contact them. Nobody in Yuka's cooking club seemed that eager…

Oh, they all turned up eager to be the next Julia Roberts or George Clooney but once she actually started to make them work the story changed! People always imagined they would turn up and become a superstar. They didn't understand the work, the sweat that was put in to become a character and live a story on stage… It was a calling, acting was. It touched the soul, moved people to tears, transported them to brave new worlds…

"Eri I don't like that look in your eye. In fact," Ayumi said, "You are starting to scare me."

See? The plebeians she had to put up with! It was too much for someone with such a delicate artistic soul!

"No really. Eri, you are freaking me out too." Yuka took a sip from her soda.

Et tu, Brutus?

Gosh, that was good coffee! Who knew that WacDonalds sold espressos?

The three girls had decided to meet up after school had ended to have a pow-wow on the state of school. Seated at their favourite booth at their favourite (well, most affordable) restaurant the girls felt finally able to let their hair down. They were comparing notes- not the homework kind but the kind that was much more important.

"Did you know that Al got a tattoo? He was showing it off at break!"

"Can you believe how ridiculous Tomoyo looks with her hair curled? It's like a French poodle got electrocuted!"

"And they went on holiday together! They are such a cute couple and so mature."

"You think she had a boob job?"

"Yuka!"

Perhaps it was the relaxed atmosphere- many pupils had the same idea and the place was crawling with exhausted uniforms, but the conversation was flowing freely and many things were being said about others that would have most certainly scandalised Eri's mother. Eri saw that as a bonus. It was so much nicer with her friends than with her stuffy mother and workaholic father. She didn't relish leaving the warmth of her friend's presence.

There was so much to do anyway. Drama club was looking like it would occupy a lot of her time this year. She had to plan auditions. That was frightening and thrilling at the same time. It meant that many people wanted to take part. It also meant a lot of planning and that it would cut into her time like a well-sharpened sword.

Anything that took up a lot of time became instantly unwelcome in Eri's world. Last year she had gotten behind on her work and she didn't want to repeat that situation but she also didn't want to give up the drama club. Anyway the production for the Culture Fair had been a success despite it not going according to what had been written in the script.

Of course this could all be dealt with latter. Right now she had a coffee to tackle. Yummy, yummy coffee. Her Mama never let her drink coffee. But it was so yummy and slurpy and lovely and made her go so delightfully hyper!

"Note to self; Ayumi are you writing this down?" Yuka started. "Don't ever let Eri get coffee again."

Smiling to herself Eri impatiently started counting down the days until the big date with Daisuke. They were planning to go to the cinema and Eri had been nervous about it for a while now. She'd heard a lot from the other girls about what you did with a guy in the cinema. It wasn't a mistake that many of them never actually understood the plot of films. Eri didn't know what he would expect and she didn't even know if she wanted him to expect something. Still, it was nice to have that good nervous feeling. Eri ducked her head, hoping she wasn't blushing.

Ayumi of course noticed and before any of them knew what was happening Eri was once more pressed for details about her love life. Daisuke had been completely repainted in her friend's minds as a warrior, a knight who had single-handedly defied and defeated a gang of miscreants for his fair lady's sake. Putting it that way meant Eri couldn't help but blush even more so she resembled a fresh tomato. So intent were the girls on needling any and all information out of Eri that they completely failed to see the approach of a relative stranger to their table. It was only when said stranger called out their names that they looked up and paid attention.

"Hojo!"

He was obviously out of breath and had come from a group of guys that were hanging around their own booth. Eri recognised a few of them from that day in the park. They were watching the girls and Hojo with interest. Hojo rubbed the back of his neck and grinned sheepishly.

"I was wondering if you'd seen Kagome today."

Of course; He was completely besotted with Kagome, it made perfect sense he'd inquire after her. There could be no other reason for conversation.

"No," said Yuka. There wasn't anything else to say. None of them had seen Kagome in the last three weeks. That was cause for concern enough.

"Oh." Hojo looked nonplussed. He rallied quickly enough though; "Do you know when she'll be back?"

"I'm so sorry Hojo. I really don't know." Ayumi said. She bowed her head but not before Eri noticed she was looking a lot more pensive than she usually did.

"Is there anything I can do? Do you know what illness it is?"

"No. We don't know. Not anymore."

He bowed his head turned away. Looking back over his shoulder he made sure to grin at them and Ayumi smiled back but the other two girls seemed lost in thought. Hojo was so desperate to be with Kagome. Guys like him only came around one time in a million and their friend was missing out on the chance of a lifetime. But why?

Eri didn't know.

She didn't know anything anymore.

"Oh and Eri?"

All heads snapped back up again.

"When is the drama club starting up again?"

* * *

Author's Note: Please review! It's great to get feedback on howI can improve this and what your thoughts are. All coments are welcome and appreciated. 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I still don't own squat. Rumiko Takahashi owns quite a lot on the other hand including Inuyasha.

* * *

** Chapter Three**

_"Only those who have dared to let go can dare to reenter." - Meister Eckhart_

* * *

_ Scene One_

That evening Yuka dragged her feet home, frowning at the ground. All too soon she found herself home. Yuka grimaced at the keyhole, daring herself to take the actions necessary to go into the put in the keys and go in. It was a strange feeling, to be so threatened by a small apartment complex. It didn't look that bad- of course the paved ground was perhaps a bit sombre as was the dull grey paintjob. But they'd done what they could and on each balcony resided veritable miniature potted rainforests to lend an air of joviality towards the whole affair. Yuka knew there was absolutely no reason for her to put off going in but she'd been doing that a lot lately; breaking down moments, stretching them so that they could be held onto individually for ever. Yuka opened the peeling door. The young girl felt like this was supposed to be a deeply symbolic moment but the truth was it was much too easy and very everyday boring.

Perhaps her Father was right. Perhaps things never really mattered that much and that you couldn't really hope for more. There wasn't any hidden meaning anywhere. The world was just a big mess of grey. He said that life went on. That this wasn't a big deal and happened all the time. She might know that. She didn't feel it though. It was only a matter of time before she didn't feel that anymore- at least that's what he had told her.

The house was an empty, corridor dark like the entrance of a pharaoh's tomb. The dirty clothesbasket was overflowing so Yuka immediately started digging around the house for the washing powder tablets. She eventually found the tablets on top of the ornate trinket carrying cabinet that stood in her Mother's room. And then she spent the next ten minutes sorting out the whites from the colours from the dark colours. It turned out that there were quite a few outfits that hardly looked worn at all. Yuka could see her mother in her mind's eye going through everything in her wardrobe, throwing it on, off, away in a desperate frenzy to find something, anything that made her feel happy.

Finally the fabrics spun around the machine, and Yuka let a sigh of satisfaction at having beaten the mounting pile of fashion doom. Unfortunately time had marched on, as it is wont to do and taken her energy away with it; she was tired and hungry but that could wait. The dishes still needed to be put away. To give credit where it is due someone had washed them; they just hadn't put them away properly but left them strewn around the kitchen counter. Sighing deeply, Yuka out them away. Her mother had just started a job after sixteen years of staying at home and hadn't yet completely balanced the housework with the office work. It was the least Yuka could do to help. Apart from that she had always been much more domestically minded than her mother. It wasn't that her mother was incapable- just it required all her time and didn't come naturally. That was what being a stay at home housewife was useful for. She needed the whole day to complete the chores and god forbid that Yuka's father was let into the intricacies of the kitchen or the bathroom!

By the time that Yuka's newly single, newly working Mother let herself into the house she was lying on her bed starring at the ceiling tiles. Her mother poked her head into the room apologetically. The older woman smiled feebly at her exhausted daughter.

"Been home long?"

"No. Just got in" Yuka lied.

"Don't forget to get a gift for Ayumi! How old will she be?"

"Sixteen."

Ayumi's birthday was the first of the girls in late September.

"Do you know what she's doing?"

"No."

"We, um… we could go shopping for a gift… You know… Together…"

Yuka didn't answer.

"Yuka?"

"I'm fine Mom."

"We are going together."

The older woman's voice had cracked. Yuka looked up. Her Mother's usually cheerful face was drawn, lines etching a frame around her eyes and hastily painted lips. Her glossy hair was dusted with salt and pepper. A long day of work had taking its toll and the careful coiffure was wilting in wisps out of the traditional bun. She stood shaking in the doorway, the black corridor behind her about to engulf her tiny frame. In that moment, by the look in her Mother's eyes, Yuka felt as if she had presented the picture of all the pain and loneliness. She had the opportunity to help her Mother- her Mother needed her little girl to lean on. Yuka understood.

"We'll go together." She tried to smile at the exhausted woman.

"Right. We'll go together."

"Yeah."

The silence stretched on like a wall around them, protecting them from the hurling, spinning world; completely cocooned in contemplation.

"So… What do you want to eat tonight? I was thinking we could order in some pizza or maybe some curry?"

And the world started turning again.

* * *

_ Scene Two_

Perhaps it had been a trick of the light. Perhaps the dust motes dancing the Viennese waltz in mid air like so many fragmented ghosts had made her head empty of all rational thought. Perhaps she had been asleep, transported into another realm where friends were forever and everything had a happy ever after. Maybe that could be why she had not heard the news everyone had been so thrilled about. Yuka blinked and turned away from starring at the air to pay attention to the conversation the school was halfway through.

It turned out that, on the gossip frontline, Eri and Yuka contained a secret weapon in the form of Ayumi's previous intelligence. The new teacher was after all her sister's boyfriend. This intelligence however had to be kept completely secret- this was out of the fear of establishing Ayumi as a teacher's pet. Too much familiarity with a teacher was an advantage that was not taken kindly to in the institutionalised society. Yuka seriously hoped that the professor would not show any favouritism or be too friendly with Ayumi. What a strange unusual thought, that was!

The gossip was spreading around the school like bushfire; each group of students would flow from class to class with the knowledge and pass it on to another group and soon the whole school was set alit. His first lesson had been second thing in the morning and the class, B, had left with a cauldron of verdicts on him. He was casual. He set them an essay. He asked them to call him Yuito. He was strict. Sorting out the oxymoron was enough to make Yuka's head ache.

"He's so handsome!" was gushed.

"He's going to make us work really hard, I can tell." Was murmured.

"And those glasses- he looks so smart!"

"Like a geek." A tall guy muttered leaning against the wall.

"Yeah, but did you see the sword on the wall? That's so cool- even for a geek." His mate countered.

"Yeah, and geek chic is like, so in right now…" said a pony tailed girl.

Yuka glanced at her friends as the group moved on. They had a lesson with Yuito on Thursday and one on Friday. To be honest she was starting to get very excited about him. She wanted to see if he lived up to all the compliments showered on top of him and what all the negatives were. It was the first time in Yuka's life that she was looking forward to a history. Usually this excitement was only generated by bank holidays, free afternoons or non-uniform days.

Her next lesson, literature, was missing the teacher whose five year old permanently snot-nosed, sticky fingered boy had thrown up his morning cereal and instantly been driving to the hospital in a fit of parental panic. The desk was empty except for a picture frame, a folder and a board pen. This overjoyed the twenty-six teenagers with joy of Biblical proportions. It was a miracle, a blessing, angels were singing "Hallelujah" in the clouds above and the gods were smiling at them.

Sitting on the desk Yuka turned to Ayumi who was twirling a pen between her slender fingers. Eri leant against her desk and unceremoniously dropped her bag so that the contents slid slightly out on the floor.

"What you doing for your birthday?" Yuka asked.

This immediately perked Eri's attention- "Yeah- what are you doing?"

Basking in the attention of her friend's hanging onto her every word; Ayumi smiled widely. Leaning back in her chair, she started talking as if imparting the ultimate secret and truth of life.

"Well, I was thinking of going to a restaurant but I figured that we wouldn't be able to muck around much or anything so then I thought that we could go to the carnival but that might be a bit childish for a sixteenth. Mom said that the bowling alley would be cool but it's a bit average just like the shopping centre. We could go ice skating but I'll fall over and that would really suck and it's not winter yet so that kind of leaves a musical!"

"Excuse me? Could you repeat that? I'm not sure I caught it…"

"Oh. Well there was the bowling alley, the restaurant, the ice…" Said Ayumi.

"No, no I'm fine with that lot- it's the last bit I kind of didn't catch." Eri said.

"Erm… A musical? As in on stage?"

"Yeah. That's what I thought." Yuka deadpanned. "It could actually be very fun."

"So that's okay with you?"

"Of course it is, dear. Why not?"

A shadow fell over the group and before Ayumi could reply a voice had already hissed.

"Well, long time no see, darling. So how does it feel to be that one step closer to puberty? Maybe one day you'll actually hit it."

They all looked up sharply from where they were sitting to find Tomoyo sneering down on them.

Tomoyo, for all pretences of maturity and sophistication, was above and beyond everything vain. This was not her only trait of character but had run unchecked for so long that it submitted all other qualities unto its will. Once a charming child, she had now become the kind of teenager only found on low quality American sitcoms. She had been spoon fed since birth with everything mass produced, content artificially removed and injected hormones. As a result her world narrowed to that of tantrums, possessions and self. A slave to the whims of public opinion, Tomoyo prided herself in her narrow-mindedness. And, as all petty teenagers (and in fact many adults) she needed a target. She had found one in the four girls but more specifically in Ayumi.

Much more would have been said but at that moment the door opened and the pupils had to return to their seats. Tomoyo shot Ayumi a sneering glance from her desk at the front of the room and Yuka glared back.

They had been set a bedraggled group of scruffy questions to do in the hour with a bespectacled, mousy haired substitute teacher presiding. She sat with a thermos cradled in her hands like a precious elixir. Her nose was red and she was wrapped in scarves, shawls, jumpers and gloves. Red-rimmed eyes peered at the class and she pursed her lips towards each desk in turn. Yuka drifted through the books, not really paying any attention.

Tomoyo had always been a problem for the girls. It had started-as most such problems do- for apparently no reason apart from, perhaps, childish rivalry gone out of hand. Tomoyo had been a friend of theirs when they were little and you could still swap a best friend for two acquaintances or a chocolate bar. A bag of sweets was enough to bribe the entire classroom into being minions forever or at least for the next week but that was the same thing in eight-year-old language. Tomoyo had taken offence at some unconscious slight on Ayumi's part. It hadn't helped that Eri and Yuka were ready to beat her up for their friend's sake. The silent treatment, yelling treatment and downright strop-y treatment rapidly followed each other. Also every week another escalating offence was added to the mutual list of grievances. No one remembered why or what but it has always been that way and wouldn't change.

Years had passed and childish grudges that never harmed anyone, beyond red faces and narrowed eyes turned into something ugly.

Yuka remembered the day that it had come to a head. Of course it was all fuzzy. Tomoyo despised all of them by default and had been trying her hardest to outshine them all. The day had been grey and grim- the weather reflecting it's own pathetic fallacy. Ayumi had been stressing out over exams and was feeling poorly. Kagome and herself were trying to cheer her up but resulted being just as down. Eri had been away sick.

They'd been designing a poster for History detailing the Russian/Japanese war and the teacher had divided them into groups. It had just so happened that Tomoyo, Yuka, Ayumi and a guy had been put together. Kagome pleadingly looked at them from her own group across the room. It just went downhill from there on in. Argument after argument meant that nothing happened. The poor guy ended up doing it all by himself, as Tomoyo lambasted the trembling Ayumi and Yuka fought back. Yuka forgot what Tomoyo said but she did remember it being particularly shocking and rude. Ayumi bowed her head. Yuka worked her mouth in anger.

It was whispered and floated in the air above Ayumi's head. Each syllable rounded with the relish and hesitation of someone trying a word for the first time.

"You bitch."

Instantly Tomoyo jumped across the table. She slapped Ayumi hard against the face. Immediately Yuka had launched herself at the girl. She was intent on pulling her hair out, deaf to the gasps of the class and the screams of the teacher. There ensued a three way bitch fight. Slapping, scratching, hissing and maybe even biting. Screeches erupted through the classroom as pandemonium broke out. The boys started whooping and cheering them on. Some of the girls were crying but most were just shell-shocked. Yuka thought she heard Kagome's voice yelling something ragged.

It had finally taken a group of five reluctant boys to separate the fighting females. Breath knocked out of their bodies. Yuka didn't feel like fighting anymore anyway. She was shocked and reality was slowly beginning to slide back into place. She'd attacked Tomoyo. In front of the class. She was screwed.

In fact all three of them were screwed with a three weeks of detentions. It took even longer to get over it.

Since then the entire school had been aware of the enmity and done their best to fame it hopping to start another girl-fight. It was a bit like The Divorce. Not just like any divorce. This one deserved a capital letter. It was Her Divorce. The fighting between her parents reminded her a bit of that. Or was it the other way? Was it that everything reminded her of the Divorce?

Class ended at long last. Yuka grabbed her papers and stuffed them into her bag, not caring when they crumpled. She walked out ahead of her friends.

Unfortunately this what not fast enough to loose the still seething Tomoyo. The clicking of the antagonistic girl's polished black shoes resounded like tom-toms. She shoved past Ayumi, who was struggling to keep up with Yuka's pace and put her books back into her bag at once. Stumbling from the contact, Ayumi dropped her bag spilling the contents and the books she was holding all over the corridor. She fell to her knees immediately, trying to pick them all up, mouth in an indignant "oh". Yuka felt anger boil up in her as Tomoyo kicked a green textbook out of Ayumi's reach.

"I do believe that was somewhat uncalled for, Miss."

The smooth voice belonged to a tall, lithe, smiling man wearing a tailored suit. Yuka had never seen him before but the look of relief on Ayumi's face was palpable. His brown hair was neatly combed, parted slightly to the right. He cheerfully walked over, his thumbs hooked over the edge of his pockets. Tomoyo was starring at him completely disconcerted but he didn't seem to notice.

"Not hurt, are you Miss? No? Excellent. Then we'll just clear these books up and you may go on to your next lesson. We wouldn't want to keep your teacher waiting. Oh and Miss?" addressing Tomoyo now, "I do believe that I would like to get to know you better. How about tonight after lessons? I'm sure we can arrange some work for you to do. Thank you very much"

At that he sauntered off down the hallway. And that was how Yuka, Eri and Ayumi met professor Yuito for the first time.

* * *

_ Scene Three_

The first history lesson was a resounding success. Many of the pupils were eager to pay attention thanks to the word of mouth that had crossed the school concerning the young professor. He met very little reluctance as each pupil hung onto his words, waiting to see what he would do next. They were testing him. Surely he realised that, Yuka thought. The class hummed with anticipation and curiosity.

It was important to test him, find out what his limits were and how to use that to the classes' advantage. Everyone was tense, waiting for someone to make the first faux pas and be reprimanded. Some pupils immediately started pushing it with a teacher but not so for Yuka. She hung back and waited to see how it went over before she made any moves. Already she had seen his reaction to an incident that would have sent most teachers over the precipice of tactlessness.

Completely ignoring the scrutiny of the class, Yuito was alternating between munching a digestive chocolate covered biscuit and dunking it into a cup of steaming hot tea.

He looked so at ease, so comfortable with the sea of faces gazing unblinkingly at him that Yuka wouldn't have been surprised to see him take of his shoes and put them on the desk. Yuka somehow felt like he couldn't have been anything over than a teacher, he was at home in front of a class.

The classroom always was a good judge of the type of teacher. Some kept it completely plain, requiring only a work environment with nothing extra. That would usually herald no class discussions or chance for group activities. Of course there were also the other extremes, those who pinned up every single paper creating a cacophony of colours. Those were the teachers who insisted on group dramas and games. They tried to make learning fun. They never realised that learning never was and never would be fun. Not when you had to get up early and trudge in and sit in rows. Not when you really wanted to talk about something else, anything else than lessons.

Yuito seemed to fall into different category. One altogether too rare; he seemed to make history interesting even if it couldn't be fun.

It was true that he had a sword on the wall but the blade was invisible. Instead all you could see was a scabbard, ornately decorated. Yuka suspected it was empty. She seriously doubted that the school would allow any dangerous items in the classroom. Of course the scabbard was beautiful enough without anything in it.

The desk was already covered in piles of different books. Their yellowed pages were bulked up with post-it notes. A picture frame tottered precariously on top of a red leather book. The walls were mostly bare apart from a few tastefully selected ancient manuscripts that had been framed or some old prints. There was a distinct medieval feel to the decor on the walls and Yuka found herself starring at a print of a battlefield for a long minute.

Feigning disinterest, Yuito languidly dragged his eyes across the class.

"So… Do any of you know why you are here?"

What an odd question to ask! A few titters could be heard. A quiet girl in the back of the room raised her hand.

"To learn history?"

"That is supposed to be the right answer." Yuito smiled "However I believe we all can agree that the only reason you are here is because the government would, like totally kick your parent's arses if you didn't turn up."

The class exploded in gasps and nervous giggles. Yuito raised his eyebrows, seemingly surprised or perhaps slightly cynical of the reaction.

"Of course, don't tell anyone I said that. I guess my real purpose here is to help you pass the exams, but I hope that I'll be able to help you understand why our History is important. I know it's too much to hope that you'll all like this subject but I want you to put effort into it anyway. At the end of the day you'll only get out what you put in and I can't do the work for you even though I'm willing to help."

The introduction was over and Yuka leaned back in her chair and stretched out her legs waiting for the lesson to begin. Yuito explained how the course was divided into different topics that would be judged in an exam divided into each category. Each school was choosing a subject to do the coursework on and Yuito had decided they would focus on the Sengoku Jiday or Warring States Era as it was is speciality and he would be able to help them complete the project best on that.

The first lesson consisted of a general historical knowledge quiz so that Yuito could determine where the holes in knowledge where and what was the general level of expertise in the class. Yuka was surprised at the lack of prevalence of dates. Wasn't that what history was all about? Instead she found herself ticking boxes, filling in missing words and linking events of general knowledge spanning the world and time.

As the lesson and week passed the class came to the conclusion that Yuito was a good teacher. He made them do the work and taught well. Some subjects were boring of course and he wisely decided not to decorate them. Sometimes class discussions would start and he would encourage them. Other times the room would be silent in that stubborn way that occurs when everyone knows the answer but refuses to say. Yuka found herself enjoying the lessons. She knows that Ayumi had been very nervous that he would be a bad teacher and the disaster that would cause if he were linked back to her sister. This so far hasn't happened, as Yuito hasn't shown any preferential treatment.

Unfortunately this doesn't mean that everything is perfect. Yuito sets a lot of extra research and homework. And he actually counts on them to do it.

"If he thinks I'm wasting my time on this rubbish, he's dead wrong," declares Eri crossing her arms. "I don't care if it's not that difficult, I'm not doing any work overnight for the next day. Matter of principle, as it were."

Eri doesn't like moving for anybody except for herself or from her own volition, Yuka notes. Yuka suspects that Eri isn't too happy with Yuito for cutting into her free time. After all she had been telling them all about her boyfriend and all the things they did. She would blush and act modest but Yuka knew she was dying to spill all the details. And Yuka also knew that the glossiness and juiciness of the details only had enough shine to last the first couple of times they were told. It was necessary to replenish the events if one was to continue being the centre of talk all girls subconsciously fought to occupy. This would not be possible for Eri if she were forced to stay at home and work on last minute History research.

Also Yuito seemed to be quite concerned about Kagome's absence from his classroom. The other professor's took this as quid pro quo- nothing to worry about. They tried to explain that Kagome was always ill and with the strangest of diseases but would turn up sooner or latter bright as rain without so much as a single symptom. Now when it was said it hardly sounded convincing and Yuka wasn't sure he was completely convinced. Instead he had started plying them to bring homework and lesson outlines back and forth between Kagome and the classroom. It sounded like a good idea but every time they went Kagome had been in isolation and her Mother had taken the work from them with a big smile. The trio exchanged suspicious glances. The homework was never returned.

To be honest, if Yuito had a fault it was in being idealistic, even if he didn't realise it and would deny it. He had the deep down belief that everyone could be reasoned with and would do the right thing. They didn't know what he had said to Tomoyo but Yuka had a bad feeling about it. Tomoyo was keeping her distance and that was good but…

A day ago Yuka had been busy in the kitchens cooking for the home economics classroom. The Soya for the vegetarian platter had been measured out wrongly. Soya expands so you only need a third of what it says you need in meat. Currently everyone was running around trying to find ways to confine the expanding danger and enough of the other ingredients to compensate- so it wouldn't be a molehill of sauce with a mountain of Soya. The teacher had sent her off on an emergency errand to find a larger bowl in one of the other rooms. She'd burst into the neighbouring class out of breath, her apron akimbo. Tomoyo had been stirring a concoction, laughing with her friends and, surprised, looked up to glare at her. That freaked Yuka out a bit. She had the feeling that Yuito's interference might have made things worse by forcing Tomoyo to ruminate over things.

Anyway, Yuka decided she was not going to waste any more time thinking about that. It was certainly not doing anything helpful. Besides she had an assignment to complete. They were studying the carbon cycle in science and Yuka had to admit she was finding it harder than anything to comprehend. This was ever so slightly annoying as science was a favourite subject and Yuka was loath to get behind.

Besides she felt as if she would let her family down if she didn't study as hard as possible. It was sometimes quite fun, in fact. When you studied all barriers, all frustrations would disappear or perhaps melt into one that was in front of her with instructions on how to destroy it. Clear, precise instructions and easily done. Or at all always done at the end. And besides, there were always the answers at the back of the book. Yuka wondered sometimes if she had been given a life instruction book with the answers at the back. Probably. The problem was that once you got to the back it was too late.

* * *

_ Scene Four_

Of course Ayumi's birthday was a moment of international importance. It was not everyday that one had the advantage of turning sixteen and therefore every single privilege, excepting those of dubious legal standing, had to be brought forth. Wallets had to be emptied like bottles of sake on New Year's Eve. Because Yuka was too young to drink and if the metaphor was to be followed her Mother would have to empty the wallet for her.

Dragged through each shop, clothes, jewellery, books flew past each other in a carousel of colours and writing and sounds. Dizzy, turning around and around to see a new display, running through aisles after aisles it was all taken in, absorbed and judged before the verdict was returned. Usually it was decided unworthy of their attention, fun but not good enough, gorgeous but not appropriate. Yuka took notes on a purple top with décolleté collar, a silver sleek MP3 player, a gold and white purse with embroidered details. Her Mother gasped at a china figurine wearing a yellow sundress and hat with blue-black hair whipped around her elusive face.

Mounting the escalator with all the intrepidness of an explorer climbing the Aztec pyramids, Yuka anticipated the displayed treasures of the second floor. Here it was with great joy that the perfect gift was discovered with a little motherly advice. Yuka was going to create a scrapbook filled with pictures ranging from the first few days of school to the last few days. Yuka was already planning on the pictures she would pick out, the notes she would write beneath each one in different coloured pens, all the little intricate details. The book itself had yellow, rough pages and was decorated with purple chiffon on the front and pressed flowers. Collages would cover every page. If Yuka knew anything about Ayumi, she knew that she'd love it.

Yuka and her Mother sat down in a little side street restaurant for some respite on their feet and to replenish the waning energy. Food ordered the obligatory awkward silence descended whilst they both frantically searched through their minds for anything to say. It was finally Mother who broke the silence.

"Did you enjoy your time at your Father's?"

Yuka bit her lip.

"Not that much. He tried to talk to me about stuff but I didn't feel like it. We didn't do much."

"Oh. Of course not."

Yuka sifted sugar with her coffee spoon and spun it frantically around the little cup.

"Yuka-"

"Mom- "

"No, honey. Listen to me. Just once. I know you're upset," deep breath, "but you don't have to be upset for me. He's still your Father. And…"

"Mom! He cheated on you!"

"He's still your Father and you will respect him!"

Yuka stared at the stranger sitting across from her, asking her to do the impossible. She felt ill. It wasn't right. It wasn't right that she had to respect him. He hadn't respected her Mother. He'd gone on "business meetings". He'd let her carefully prepared meals go cold whilst he did other things; things more important than his family or the woman who'd do anything for him. Doing things with fake breasts probably.

Her Mother had every right to be angry; to scream until the walls caved in and covered her. But no, she'd always known and she'd never said anything. At least Yuka thought she did. And he'd made the first move to leave and she'd taken it like a rock (a resigned rock but still a rock). She'd just thinned her lips and shaking, signed the agreement.

And now Yuka was so angry for her just taking it like that, for her asking Yuka to take it too. They didn't understand that it wasn't just between the two of them, but that he had cheated on Yuka too. Maybe she was just being selfish.

Her Mother had grown so small.

"Don't worry about me honey. I'm a big girl. I can get through this."

And Yuka thought that there weren't any big girls, just lots of little girls with lots of cosmetics.

She drunk her coffee, ate her meal and glanced at the paper headlines. They talked about meaningless things and smiled.

The papers were reporting gang killings. Bodies mutilated. She wondered about the victims. She wondered how much make-up they put on a corpse before it was presentable.

* * *

So... Do you like it? Hate it? Opinions? Any grammatical mistakes? All constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, so please review!


End file.
